birdbrain
by belle parole
Summary: There's another bird guy. "You should meet him," Steve says with a slight smile. "I'd love to," Clint replies. "But I'd rather not."


_cLAM CLAM CLAM CLAM CLAM_

 _842 words_

* * *

There's another bird guy.

"Sam. The _Falcon_ ," Clint says back to Steve, raising an eyebrow. Is he just _trying_ to be a low-quality version of him?

"The Falcon," Steve repeats, giving Clint a little smile. "You should meet him."

"Ah," Clint says because he knows what this is.

Steve is annoying. It's a universal fact. Steve's also a hypocrite. He refuses to let anyone set him up, but he's been trying to set Clint up with _everyone_.

And come on — the Falcon?

"I'd love to, but I'd rather not," Clint says, patting Steve on the shoulder. "Falcons are just smaller hawks. Bigger is better. _Way_ better."

"You should meet him," Steve repeats, still giving Clint a little smile. "I have a mission to fill."

"Of course you do," Clint says with an inward groan. He's going to do the mission. He already knows that. But he's not going let Steve set him up. Especially with the _other_ bird guy.

...

"Heard you needed a Falcon."

"Nice goggles," Clint responds, his tongue in his cheek.

Admittedly, the fact that this guy — Sam — can fly is pretty cool, but it doesn't mean he's the better bird guy. That's still Clint. Clint's never claimed to have all the qualities of a hawk; he's Hawkeye, not Hawk-Full-Body. That doesn't even flow well.

"You mock them now," Sam says, giving Clint a once-over, "but I can see up to a mile with these on."

"Oh, you can't do that with just your eyes?" Clint asks, smirking. "I assumed, if you're called _The Falcon_ , but…"

Sam raises an eyebrow at him and turns around.

"Natasha's not a venomous spider, but she's still called Black Widow," he points out, scoping out the area.

Clint stares at his back. Sure, he has good eyesight, but apparently, he's not able to burn a hole with his eyes. Yet.

"Whatever," Clint says, gripping his bow. "Let's just do this."

...

Honestly, the mission is easy — taking out a stray HYDRA member that has popped up. Steve could do it himself in about three seconds.

Further proof that he's just trying to set Clint up.

They come up with a simple plan pretty quickly; Sam'll distract they guy and Clint'll shoot a net arrow at him from outside. Ah, arrows. An arrow for every occasion.

"I don't you if you heard," Clint hears Sam say through his earpiece as he sneaks around the back of the guy's apartment building, "but Falcons eat snakes."

Clint positions himself, ready to fire his bow. He has to shoot one through the window and the net arrow right after. He's pretty sure he'll make it. A target that clear? It'll be hard to _miss_.

"And what if the snake slithers away?" Clint hears. He sees the man talking to Sam, his movements slightly stiff. Nervous. Good; that means he's probably not armed, which would make things easier for them.

"That's okay," Sam says. "Hawks eat them too."

With one fluid movement, Clint fires his arrow. It shoots through the glass, breaking it, and he shoots his second one at the HYDRA agent before he can react.

Clint smirks up at Sam at the agent writhes on the ground.

He likes the smile he gets back.

...

Clint is sweating and Sam is smirking.

They rendezvous on the roof of the apartment building, which means Clint had to scale the building with one of his grappling hook arrows.

"Why didn't you go inside and use the elevator, Birdbrain?" Sam asks, looking Clint up and down.

Well, yes. He could have.

That would have been simple though.

Also, he didn't think of it, but he's not about to admit that.

"You're a bird too, Birdbrain," he shoots back instead. "You can't insult me with that."

"Yeah," Sam says, picking up the HYDRA agent through the net and moving closer to Clint, "but you're like the ultimate bird."

Sam puts a hand up and moves a piece of hair out of Clint's forehead. Clint's heart is beating in slow-motion, which is weird — isn't it supposed to speed up right now.

Also.

 _Holy shit is Steve going to_ win _this one? Steve can't win, Steve can't win, Steve can't win._

Except.

 _If Steve wins,_ I _win._

And then Sam thumps Clint's forehead with a smile that reaches his eyes.

"Birdbrain."

Clint scoffs at him, but his heart hasn't changed the soft _ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump_. Would it be cheating if Clint moves his hair back down so Sam has to touch him again? Oof. Clint is pathetic. He hates this.

 _Oh shit. I_ want _Steve to win._

At least Sam called him the ultimate bird. He knows his place. Good.

"Race you to the compound," Sam says, jolting Clint out of his thoughts.

Wait. Did they just have a moment of staring into each other's eyes?

Sam grips onto the HYDRA agent harder and extends his wings, jumping off the roof and soaring away.

"That's _cheating_ ," Clint calls after him. He lets out a soft sigh before muttering, "Birdbrain."


End file.
